


the devil's in the details (but you've got a friend in me)

by leopxld_fitz



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: F/F, Gals being pals, devil wears prada au, okay maybe four, one gratuitous fashion reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:01:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26457625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leopxld_fitz/pseuds/leopxld_fitz
Summary: Stevie is an up-and-coming writer, fresh out of Canada. Alexis is the head of a major fashion magazine with a mixed reputation. Stevie can't stop thinking about her new boss and, honestly, it's kind of getting to her.A Devil Wears Prada AU.
Relationships: Stevie Budd/Alexis Rose
Comments: 20
Kudos: 24
Collections: Elevate! A Schitt's Creek Femslash Exchange





	the devil's in the details (but you've got a friend in me)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [petrodobreva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/petrodobreva/gifts).



> For my friend, @petrodobreva. This was an absolute HONOR to get, and I hope I did it justice. 
> 
> Written for the Elevate! Femslash Exchange.

If you were to ask Stevie what happened, she wouldn’t be able to tell you. 

It was definitely  _ after _ she took a job with Major Lady Magazine, just because it was a Rose Publication and her friend Patrick kept insisting that it would “open up a lot of doors,” despite her having absolutely zero interest in fashion. But it was also, in all honesty, probably  _ before _ she stopped shit-talking her boss to her friends.

Her whole life was like that now. Cleaved clean in two. There was before Alexis Rose, and then there was after. 

It was almost comical now, in retrospect. It’d all happened so gradually. At first, she’d hated her. Working as Alexis Rose’s assistant was her own personal hell, and she spent most of her days at the magazine sprinting between runs and wondering what deity she must have pissed off to deserve it (when she suggested this thought out loud to David, Alexis’ brother, the magazine’s art director and, apparently, her only ally, he suggested that she may have been a spin instructor, assessed her wardrobe for a moment, and then instead stated that she may have been Dracula). 

But at some point, she started to notice how hard Alexis actually worked, and things...changed. Every time Stevie witnessed her commanding a room, or making shrewd editing decisions for the “book,” or schmoozing with people that she knew full well she couldn’t stand, she was struck all over again by how much she had underestimated Alexis. How much she was pretty sure  _ everyone _ underestimated Alexis. Stevie was drunk one night about two months after starting her job, explaining this to Patrick and Twyla in full at the bar, expounding in great detail about how Alexis was smart, about how Alexis was more than just a Rose heir, about how Alexis earned that spot. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been talking, but the way they were just staring at her knowingly - Patrick in particular - made her feel a little too seen, and she headed home early. 

After that, it seemed like she noticed everything about Alexis. The way her eyes twinkled when she threw an unexpected joke in Stevie’s direction, or the way that the manner in which she was moving her hands could tell you exactly what mood she was in, or the way she caught the same whiff of her perfume when she dropped her coat on Stevie’s desk every morning. The realization that Stevie had, somehow, developed a crush on her  _ boss _ hit her like a freight train. A freight train that landed her in David’s glass walled office, pacing, making David’s face contort as he tracked her movements. 

“Okay, can you please sit? You’re like some sort of demented track horse or something. You’re giving me hives.” 

Stevie wheeled on him. “You have to promise me that you’re not going to freak out.” 

David’s alarm increased, brows somehow arching and knitting together at the same time. “When has that ever made someone not freak out?” he asked, voice edging up on something shrill. 

Stevie took a deep breath, closing her eyes. “IthinkIhaveacrushonyoursister.” 

David blinked, looking less worried and more...confused. “Okay, run that by me again at a human speed.”

Stevie raked a hand through her hair, worrying in the back of her mind that she’d ruined her part. She didn’t start cramming herself into designer suits every day just to fuck it up by touching her hair. Especially not over this. “I think...I might be into your sister.” 

“Oh,” David said, relaxing in his chair. His face settled, looking almost amused. “I wouldn’t worry about it. She does that to people.” He pulled his coffee toward him, taking a long drag from it. When all Stevie did was gape at him, he tacked on a defensive, “What?”

“That’s all you have to say?” she lobbed back, crossing her arms. “What the fuck does that mean?”

David pulled a face, gesturing to her posture. “If I tell you, will you stop folding your arms like that? Because I really did not give you that [Valentino](https://www.neimanmarcus.com/p/valentino-lace-trim-crepe-couture-blazer-prod232870138?utm_source=google_shopping&adpos=&scid=scplpsku195300257&sc_intid=sku195300257&ecid=NMCS__GooglePLA&gclid=Cj0KCQjwhvf6BRCkARIsAGl1GGhwg1MbRvmCqxjibGRW4PT6RjFEQYzwNhDw4GFSGS-9dqPtXF5Ee0oaAszpEALw_wcB&gclsrc=aw.ds) just to have you treat it like this.”

Stevie rolled her eyes grandly but carefully unbuttoned and removed the blazer in question, adjusting the lapels on the white shirt underneath before plopping unceremoniously in the chair across from David’s desk. “Happy?”

“That’s a relative term with you,” David sniped back. Still, he looked out the window in the direction of Alexis’ office for a moment before saying, “All I meant is that…my sister can be very charming. When she wants to be. For  _ who _ she wants.” He shrugged, as if what he’d just said wasn’t the most cryptic thing Stevie’d ever heard. “So I wouldn’t be like, ashamed of catching feelings. She just does that. It’s happened a thousand times. One time it was my math tutor, but I got even by dating her dance instructor, so I guess that kind of canceled out.”

Stevie wound up leaving David’s office more confused than when she’d gone in.

Still, she chewed on it over the next week. Carefully observing the way Alexis spoke to her compared to the way she spoke to other people. Even the other assistant, Tennessee, who’d been there much longer than Stevie and lived for the job didn’t seem to get the occasional touches or little smiles that Stevie did. It did something strange to her stomach that she didn’t think she could ever put into words.

* * *

It was a Wednesday when Alexis bellowed for Stevie from her office, and she exchanged a confused look with Tennessee.

“Is it about Paris Fashion Week? Did you forget to bring the Book to her house last night? Did you book her Toronto business trip? Did you get her smoothie order right?” Tennessee asked in a rush.

“Oh, I never get her smoothie order right,” Stevie replied, standing slowly and wandering into Alexis’ office.

“Door please,” Alexis said without looking up from where she was typing furiously on her phone.

Stevie watched her carefully but said nothing, sliding the door to her office into place, the click seeming loud in the quiet between them.

“I’m assuming you have Friday night available?” she asked.

“Why would you assume that?”

That got her attention. Alexis looked up at Stevie, a little smirk in place. “Oh, I’m sorry. Are you not available on Friday night?”

Stevie blinked at her. “Technically I have standing plans with my friends every Friday night.”

“Mmm. Totally,” Alexis hummed back, looking like Stevie might as well have said she did her laundry every Friday. “Okay well let’s cancel that. I need you at an event that night.”

Stevie narrowed her eyes, glancing back out of the office. “To the ball? I thought Tennessee was supposed to go to that.”

Alexis shot Stevie a look of disgust. “Ew, what am I, Cinderella? It’s a gala,” she corrected. “Also, yes, Tennessee usually comes, but between you and me, it’s really just like, not her calling. And you have a great memory. So, I’m taking you instead. You get to be my little datie for the evening.” She pushed a thick binder forward. “I need you to memorize every name and face in here” She tapped the binder cover for effect. “They all think they’re friends with me, and I am really bad at remembering, like, every bald guy and woman with tacky shoes, so you’re my informant.”

Stevie gaped at her incredulously. “I don’t –“ Stop. Reel it in. Whatever Stevie was about to say was probably going to be unprofessional. She took a deep breath, eyebrows and chin both a bit raised, and played her only card. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

Alexis smirked. “Okay, now you sound like Cinderella,” she commented. “Have David take you through the evening wear room.” Then Alexis waved her hand, attention back to tapping out emails on her phone.

Suitably dismissed, Stevie pressed her lips together to hold back any further objections and quietly exited the room.

* * *

Three days later, outfitted in a  [ Carolina Herrera gown ](https://www.bergdorfgoodman.com/p/carolina-herrera-icon-two-tone-trench-gown-prod150650150?ecid=BGCS__GooglePLA&utm_source=google_shopping&adpos=&scid=scplpsku118761295&sc_intid=sku118761295&gclid=Cj0KCQjwhvf6BRCkARIsAGl1GGilmRb1lz0WX8BxK-cxN8TUbCjE4g4q0_KzcmmOrP6iiEJZkxRZgFQaAt_REALw_wcB&gclsrc=aw.ds) that cost more than her car back home, Stevie carefully climbed the steps of the Museum of Natural History. She spotted Alexis instantly, lit from behind at the top of the steps, a shining column in a regal-looking  [ half-caped McQueen ](https://www.harrods.com/en-us/shopping/alexander-mcqueen-silk-cape-sleeve-gown-15625207) that Stevie caught herself thinking must have been made specifically for her. She had a way of doing that. Taking something like a pink dress with a jeweled collar and making it seem like the most powerful piece of clothing in the world. 

Stevie must have stopped in her tracks, because Alexis raised her hand to give a shy little wave in her direction, followed by a more insistent beckoning motion when Stevie did not immediately move forward. 

When she got to the top, Alexis cleared her throat, smoothing a non-existent stray hair into place on her chignon. “Thought you were going to stand me up for a minute there.” 

“I think you pay me a little too much to do that,” Stevie joked. 

Something in Alexis’ eyes steeled. “Right,” she said, though in response to what, Stevie couldn’t say. 

Before she could stop herself, Stevie offered Alexis her arm. Off of Alexis’ questioning look, she clarified, “I think escorting duties should probably make sure you have a stable support when going up stairs.” 

Alexis’ smile twitched back to life. “Okay but we’re at the top of the stairs, though.” 

Fuck. “Um, there could be more stairs inside,” Stevie said dumbly. 

But Alexis was nodding anyway, eyes bright. “See, that’s why I like you, Stevie,” she said coyly, slipping her arm through hers. “You think of everything.” 

Stevie floated there for the rest of the night, spinning through the world in a blur of twinkling lights and champagne and the scent of Alexis’ hairspray. Alexis didn’t pull away so Stevie didn’t either, staying close, murmuring names and contexts and jokes to try to get Alexis’ polished veneer to crack and see that goofy smile that it seemed like she rarely used. 

By the end of the night, Patrick and Twyla had both texted her. Twyla’s text was a simple, “ _ Send me a dress selfie! : ) _ ,” to which Stevie begrudgingly obliged. Patrick’s was short but packed with meaning, reading, “ _ I hope this night is everything you want it to be. _ ” Unable to find words and unwilling to dive into feelings territory, she just sent back a, “ _ : ) _ ” and nothing more.

* * *

The next month passed quickly. Stevie didn’t really get more quality time with Alexis in the mad scramble for Paris Fashion Week, but it seemed like something had shifted. Alexis stopped complaining about the mystery smoothies Stevie brought in from the cafe that Twyla owned and started asking for her opinion more. 

Two weeks before they were supposed to leave, she got an email from Alexis which read:

“ _ S -  _

_ Want you with me on the Paris trip. Please book travel on company card.  _

_ xx A _ ”

And, well, how was she supposed to say no to that?

“You’re lucky,” David told her over lunch in his office that day. He speared a bite of salad, frowned at it, and then picked up the croissant he was pretending to ignore instead, tearing off a piece and putting it in his mouth. “Paris is lovely. That’s the first place I’d want to open up my store.” 

Stevie swallowed her bite of soup, eyebrows morphing her face into something skeptical. “Your store?” 

“Oh,” David looked caught off-guard for a moment and then shrugged like he didn’t care, even though it was clear that he did. “It’s nothing. I’m just...thinking of opening my own label.” 

Stevie assessed him for a moment. “I didn’t know you wanted to open your own label.” 

David pulled a face. “Yes, believe it or not, I have bigger dreams than working at a family publication for the rest of my days.” 

She stared at him for a moment more, wheels turning, and then leaned forward, taking a pen and post-it off of his meticulously organized desk without asking, ignoring his protests. She scribbled down a phone number and then handed it to him. 

David plucked it up like it was hazardous, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger as he looked at it with a mix of mild disgust and alarm. “Okay, what am I looking at here?” 

“That’s my friend Patrick’s phone number.” 

“And why do I need your friend - “

“Patrick.” 

“ _ Fine _ , why do I need your friend Patrick’s phone number?”

Stevie shrugged innocently, taking another bite of soup. “He’s really into business. He works at a little small business aid office in Midtown. He might be able to help.” 

David nodded grandly, making a show of plucking it off of his fingers and tossing it in the trash. “Okay, well, I will not be doing that, thanks so much.” He scrubbed his fingers together to remove the sticky residue before redirecting the conversation. “Anyway, I think Paris will be good for you. Lots of connections. Lots of time with...a certain someone.” He pressed his lips together, shimmying his shoulders a little bit for effect. “Trust me, if my sister said she wants you there, it’s a good sign.”

Stevie rolled her eyes, unimpressed. She knew he was just trying to get under her skin. It was working. “Okay, I just remembered that you’re the worst,” she said, putting a cap back on her soup and standing up. “And now I’m going to go finish my lunch elsewhere.” 

“Mmm, best wishes, though!” David called after her as she headed out the door. 

After lunch, Stevie shot a text to Patrick. 

**_Stevie:_ ** _ Hey I gave one of my coworkers your number today. he wants to own a business _ _  
_ **_Patrick:_ ** _ Yeah, I know. He’s already texted me seven times. Who is this guy? _

* * *

She’d never willingly admit it to him, but David was right. Paris was beautiful. 

Stevie didn’t expect it to be perfect - she lived in Manhattan, after all - and it wasn’t. But the architecture, food, and street fashion were all more than she ever could have expected. She got to meet writers from all over the world, exchanging emails, and getting leads for next positions. It was all so exciting that she didn’t really notice when Alexis slipped away, figuring it was because she was taking lunch with a friend or giving her last minute approval on a designer’s fall collection. It wasn’t until she swung by Alexis’ hotel room that evening that she realized that that was very much not the case. 

When she entered the room, she initially thought it was empty, setting the Book on the table in the foyer, not wanting to press too far into the room without permission. She stopped short, though, at the sound of a sniffle from the next room. She set the Book down a little heavily on the table, trying to make enough noise that she wouldn’t be seen as trying to be sneaky. 

Moments later, there was a soft, “Stevie?” followed by, “I’m in here.” 

Picking up the Book again, she peeked around the corner into the living room area of Alexis’ suite, stopping in the doorway at the sight of what was, without a doubt, the most scrubbed down version of her she had ever seen. 

Alexis peered over at her from the couch, clad in sweats and what Stevie was pretty sure was one of David’s sweaters, her hair up in a messy top-bun, her face makeup-free and red. “Um -” she started, pausing to swallow thickly. “For tomorrow’s agenda, you can strike going to pick my parents up from Orly, as they will no longer be attending.” 

“Oh,” Stevie said, walking into the room to set the Book gingerly down on the table and settle on the couch beside her. “I’m...really sorry.”

Alexis huffed out something close to a laugh with none of the mirth. “It’s fine, I don’t know what I was expecting.” 

Stevie watched Alexis pick at her cuticles for a moment. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Alexis answered so quickly that it sounded more reflexive than anything else. “It’s just…” She stared off to the side, seemingly collecting her thoughts. “You always expect them to come through, you know? Like you always think they’ve changed, or that this is going to be the one time they’re going to actually show.” Her gaze dropped to her hands. “And then it never is, and now I just look so stupid.” 

“I don’t think you look stupid,” Stevie said matter-of-factly. “I think that says a lot of good things about you, actually.” 

Alexis scoffed. “Like that I’m gullible and have shitty parents?” 

Stevie shrugged. “I was going to say that you believe in people,” she told her. “I think it’s what makes you so good at your job.” She paused, and then added, “And I’m allergic to sincerity, so you know it’s true.” 

The corner of Alexis’ mouth tugged up slightly. “Thanks, Stevie,” she said, reaching over and picking up Stevie’s hand, tracing it with hers for a moment before cautiously lacing their fingers together. Her gaze was tentative but intent, luring Stevie in but also letting her know that she could go at any time. Stevie wouldn’t have walked away if you paid her. Alexis curled up, pulling her knees onto the couch and laying her head gently on Stevie’s shoulder. “I think you’re one of my favorite people that I’ve ever met.” She paused, then added, “And that’s really saying something, because I’ve had coffee with J-Lo.”

Stevie tried to fight her smile, ending up looking just a little baffled, her eyebrows coming together despite her muted grin. “Yeah. I think you’re one of mine, too.”

* * *

Whatever happened in the 72 hours following that conversation, it wasn’t what Stevie had expected.    


She was in a cab with Alexis on the way to a luncheon when she got an email. Which she read. And then read again. And then read a third time, because she was pretty sure she wasn’t understanding it correctly, because that couldn’t be true, and - 

“Stevie?” Alexis’ voice cut through the fog. “What happened?” 

“My Nana Budd died,” Stevie said in a voice that sounded nothing like her own. “And um. She owned this motel? In rural Canada, and...apparently...I now own that motel.” 

“I’m sorry, you own a hotel?” Alexis parroted. “Are you like, a secret Paris Hilton or something?” 

“Motel,” Stevie corrected. “Trust me, I really don’t think you would stay there under any circumstances. Um - I’m so sorry, can we stop the car?” 

The driver pulled over to the side of the road as Stevie’s breaths quickened, wrenching open the door and stepping out onto the streets of Paris. “This can’t be happening. I can’t own a motel. I’m a writer, I have no idea how to run a business. Fuck, Patrick’s going to be so disappointed in me. Oh my God.” 

To her surprise, Alexis appeared in front of her, putting steadying hands on her shoulder. “Okay, not sure who Patrick is, but just take deep breaths,” she said. It was strangely soothing, even if it also sort of caught Stevie off-guard. “Just take some time off. Go back to Canada. Get this sorted. It’s okay. We’ll be here.” She caught Stevie’s gaze and held it. “I’ll be here.” 

Stevie’s breaths were coming steadier, but her throat still felt tight. “I’m so sorry.” 

Alexis just smiled her little smile and took her hands back. “It’s fine. For now let’s just get off the side of the road. Trust me, it’s going to be a lot easier to get a cab back to the hotel from like, an actual location.” 

* * *

Stevie’s life moved in an unhappy blur after that. Her days were filled with packing up her things from her New York apartment, reassuring her very unworried roommate, Jake, that she would still be paying rent until she found him a new roommate and wouldn’t leave him high and dry. Emails filed in with paperwork. When the deed to the motel landed virtually in her inbox, she stared at it for thirty minutes, trying to make herself disappear by sheer force of will. That was Budd luck, she supposed. She was in a good spot in her career and had...a possible potential love interest and an apartment she liked and now here she was. Standing in Schitt’s Creek. Staring at the run-down motel from her childhood that she, in all honesty, kind of thought she’d never see again. 

Patrick tried to help. He kept sending her articles or tidbits of advice or offering to “hop on a call.” It was all nice. And she appreciated it. But she also didn’t know what to do with it. 

David called once and left a very confusing, vaguely supportive voicemail in which he mentioned that Patrick mentioned that she was struggling. 

She climbed between the sheets in a heart shaped bed and stared at her own reflection in the ceiling mirrors, wondering where her life went wrong and thinking about her past life as Dracula until she fell asleep. 

* * *

When Stevie woke up, it was to two emails and a text message. 

**_To:_ ** _ sbudd83@gmail.com  
_ **_From:_ ** _ ronnielee@torontostar.com  
_ **_Subj:_ ** _ Columnist Opening _

_ Hello,  _

_ I’m reaching out on behalf of our team at the Toronto Star. I was recently made aware of your availability for editorial work through a mutual connection and wanted to offer you a position on our editorial board. I have read your work and think your voice would fit in nicely with our paper. _

_ If you are interested, please email me back and we can set up a face-to-face meeting.  _

_ Thank you.  _

_ Sincerely,  
_ _ Ronnie Lee  
_ _ Editor-In-Chief, Toronto Star _

**_To:_ ** _ sbudd83@gmail.com  
_ **_From:_ ** _ angelica@bloomfieldandglickman.com  
_ **_Subj:_ ** _ Estate Attorney Services  
  
_ _ Dear Ms. Budd,  _

_ I received your case in connection with a recent reach out from your employer in regards to your estate. We at Bloomfield and Glickman would be happy to offer legail aid in regards to your recent business acquisition. Please give me a call on our office line and we will go over your options for selling versus owning and answer any initial questions you have.  _

_ Thank you and I look forward to speaking with you soon.  _

_ Sincerely,  _ _  
_ _ Angelica Bloomfield, Esq.  
_ _ Bloomfield and Glickman Law Offices _

Stevie was already grinning when she tapped on her texts, something warm spreading through her belly. 

**_Alexis:_ ** _ Hey! So I’m in Toronto, and I could really use a smoothie and some company...got any suggestions?   
_ **_Stevie:_ ** _ Well if you can wait 45 minutes, I think I may just have a suggestion for both.   
_ **_Alexis:_ ** _ It’s a date.  _

* * *

Stevie texted Alexis an address to a cafe in Toronto, threw on something that made her look less bedraggled than she felt, and then sped all the way to the city, fighting her nerves. 

It dissipated when she walked up to the cafe to find Alexis seated at a table on the sidewalk, looking casual and relaxed in an [Alice + Olivia sundress](https://www.nordstrom.com/s/alice-olivia-sedona-floral-long-sleeve-mandarin-collar-dress/5674662?origin=category-personalizedsort&breadcrumb=Home%2FWomen%2FShop%20by%20Occasion%2FCasual%20Weekend%2FClothing&color=fall%20into%20you%20black%20multi). It was a good look on her. Stevie fought a full grin and settled for a wave, trying not to be so obvious about the fact that Alexis was the brightest spot in her past three days. 

She sat down across from her and they talked. They talked about everything, talked about nothing. They talked about the fact that Stevie, in all honesty, never knew what was in the smoothies she was giving Alexis, and the way that neither of them had stopped thinking about Paris. Eventually, they landed on the mystery emails that Stevie had received, asking Alexis about their origins, even though she already knew they came from her. 

“I just...wanted you to have options, that’s all,” Alexis admitted, toying with the straw in her drink. “I know you’re a great writer, and I don’t want you to feel like you have to balance staying at the magazine with doing things up here. So the Star job is yours if you want it. Ronnie and my mom go way back.” She shrugged. The Roses were always doing that, Stevie noticed. Saying big things and then shrugging them off, like they could physically escape the weight of sincerity. 

Stevie shook her head, trying to process. “And the lawyer?” 

“Oh!” Alexis waved a hand, wrist limp. “She’s just to help. That way if you want to sell the business, or need help with legal questions about running it, she’s there. We have the firm on retainer at the magazine, so it’s free.” 

“I don’t...I don’t know what to say,” Stevie said after a moment. “Thank you, Alexis. You really...really did not have to do all that.” 

“It’s nothing,” Alexis replied, even though she looked mildly pleased with herself. Something more genuine washed over her face, and she added, “We take care of each other.” 

Stevie couldn’t help the smile at that one. “Yeah. We do.” She looked at the woman across from her, taking a deep breath, and deciding to take a risk. “You know...I know you’re in Toronto a lot for business. Maybe I could take you out to dinner sometime?” 

Alexis tamped down her smile by taking a sip of her smoothie. “Well, I guess if you’re not my employee anymore, I don’t see anything bad about that.” She leaned forward conspiratorially, eyes sparkling. “But I have to warn you, I just lost my best assistant, so I don’t know if I can get a dinner reservation this last minute.” 

Stevie laughed. Loud and free. “We’ll make do.” 

In eight hours time, Stevie’d get to kiss Alexis Rose for the first time and feel everything click into place. 

In two days time, Alexis would announce that she’d be spending more time in Toronto. For the magazine, of course. She’d be expanding the reach of Major Lady Magazine into Canada. For business. No other reasons. 

In six months time, Stevie would find herself rebranding the motel. She’d call it a mashup of their names, The Rosebud, inspired by the most beautiful thing in her life. Alexis would still avoid the motel at all costs, even if she was also very proud. 

In one year’s time, Stevie and Alexis would dine again at that little cafe, celebrating their one year anniversary, full of hope and plans for the future. 

**Author's Note:**

> It has been brought to my attention that I'm dumb and missed the "ANONYMOUS" part of all this, so nothing to see here folks, no authors accidentally revealed themselves, nooooopppe.


End file.
